


Secret Santa

by slytherclaw91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherclaw91/pseuds/slytherclaw91
Summary: Every year, Hermione receives a mysterious Christmas gift. Every year, Draco denies knowing anything about it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 34
Kudos: 337





	1. Chapter 1

**Monday, December 21, 1998**

It all started 8th year.

The first term was drawing to a close and Hogwarts was abuzz with students and professors alike preparing for the upcoming holiday break. Everywhere you looked, someone was rushing to finish a last minute assignment or packing to go home. The 8th year dormitories were no different.

A surprising number of students had opted to return to complete their final year, making the new dorms a necessity. Luckily, the Room of Requirement had been up to the task even after the devastation the room of hidden things had suffered during the battle.

While Harry and Ron had jumped at the opportunity to go straight into Auror training and some students had still managed to sit and pass their NEWT exams over the summer, the rest longed for some sense of normalcy after the horrors of the prior year and Hogwarts, now led by Headmistress McGonagall, had been there to welcome them back with open arms.

Hermione had received the same offer as Harry and Ron. Really, she could have had her pick of any job she wanted to train for at the Ministry to hear Minister Shacklebolt tell it, but she'd turned it down, wanting to do things in the proper order and return to the comfort of something she knew after all the unknowns of the prior year.

Neville had also been offered a job at the Ministry, but he, too, had turned it down. After spending the latter half of his 7th year in hiding from the Carrows, he'd wanted his memories of his last year at Hogwarts to be something positive.

Judging from the way he'd hit it off with Hannah Abbott after their return, it was obvious he didn't regret that decision.

Dean Thomas had never had a 7th year to begin with, having been on the run because of his blood status. Neither had Susan Bones whose parents had taken her abroad after the murder of her aunt Amelia.

Seamus Finnegan was in much the same boat as Neville and hadn't been ready to leave Hogwarts behind just yet.

The Patil twins had returned as well, though their reasons were unknown. The two kept mostly to themselves, the loss of their friend Lavender Brown in the battle weighing heavily upon them.

Theodore Nott was a bit of an oddity, the only Slytherin to voluntarily return. He made no secret of his hatred for his father and everything he had stood for. In fact, he'd been a key witness in the trials against several of the surviving Death Eaters over the summer. He'd decided to return because Hogwarts was the safest place for him for now until the aurors managed to round up the last few of Voldemort's followers who had managed to escape.

And finally, there was Draco Malfoy, back at Hogwarts because it had been that or house arrest for his crimes during the war. He'd probably have ended up serving a sentence in Azkaban alongside his parents had it not been for Potter playing the hero once more and testifying on behalf of both Draco and Narcissa at their trials. Her sentence of only one year in Azkaban was thanks to that testimony, as well. Lucius, on the other hand, was likely to rot there before ever being eligible for release.

Draco had been given a choice. He could submit to house arrest at the manor, guarded by one of the aurors, or, thanks to the alternative offered by Minerva McGonagall, he could return to Hogwarts and finish his education under her watchful eye and at the end of the year, his behavior would be evaluated.

Headmistress McGonagall was a far more preferable jailor than some nameless auror. He essentially had the same freedom as any other student, provided he check in with her once a week.

Not that he particularly took advantage of that freedom…. He still kept mostly to himself and had only recently started to spend time in the common area of the 8th year dormitories rather than staying holed up inside of his own bedroom outside of class and meal times. He only wandered the hallways or visited other parts of the castle at night, away from the prying eyes and whispers of the rest of the student body, most of whom still blamed him for Dumbledore's death and would rather see him rotting in Azkaban.

On this particular December afternoon shortly before the last day of classes, Draco sat in the corner of the common area, his parchment and books spread across the table in front of him while he finished his Transfiguration essay. He faced the rest of the room with a wall at his back, a habit he had picked up during the war.

The room was quiet save for the crackling of the fireplace, the sounds of turning pages, and occasional cursing heard from Seamus Finnegan who was struggling to complete a potion for extra credit from Slughorn on the other side of the room.

Finnegan sat on one couch with his cauldron on the table in front of him while Hermione Granger lounged on the couch opposite, reading a book. The rest of the 8th years were either in an afternoon class, in their rooms packing to leave, or else had already left for the holiday. Because they were all over age, the 8th years had the option to leave as soon as they completed their last class by going to Hogsmeade and then apparating to their destination rather than waiting for the Hogwarts Express to come like the younger students.

Granger, bloody overachiever that she was, had probably finished her assignments several weeks ahead of time. He knew her last class had been that morning, yet she had made no move to pack for the holidays. Not that he was keeping track of her class schedule, of course...It just happened that they had several classes in common.

Draco Malfoy wouldn't be going anywhere for Christmas, either. He could have gone to the manor if he'd wanted, but there was no point. No one would be there, so he supposed he may as well spend Christmas alone at Hogwarts than bother packing and unpacking to spend Christmas alone somewhere else when he could do it perfectly well right where he was.

He finished up the last bit of his essay and rolled up the parchment, stowing it away in his bag along with the books he'd been using. He'd been ready to get up and go turn the essay in when he heard more muttered curses from across the room and looked up to see the potion Seamus was working on hadn't turned the purple shade it should have by this point and instead was a rather bright shade of blue. Finnegan glanced across at Granger as if considering asking for her help, but she was still engrossed in her book and hadn't noticed his plight.

Draco was sure he knew where the potion had gone wrong and how to fix it, but Finnegan wasn't about to ask for his help and he wasn't about to offer it. Deciding it was none of his business if the other boy failed his potions extra credit assignment, he hoisted his bag over his shoulder and stood to leave, but something stopped him.

Finnegan rifled through his potions ingredients and pulled out a vial containing a greyish powder. The label was partially worn away, the only word still visible being 'horn.' The instructions called for Powdered Bicorn Horn, so that wasn't cause for concern….except when the bottle stopper was removed and the scent wafted toward him. Powdered Bicorn Horn had a sickly sweet scent, but the vial emitted a bitter scent. There was only one other powdered horn Draco could think of that would look like powdered bicorn horn, and that was powdered Erumpent horn, something they had only used to brew one potion in the NEWT level class because of the dangers it posed when interacting with most other potion ingredients...particularly with aconite, which Draco had already seen Finnegan add to the cauldron earlier in the day.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Draco said as he watched Finnegan's hand hover at the edge of the cauldron, the vial tipping precariously close.

"Sod off, Malfoy, no one asked for your opinion."

"I rather think I'm entitled to an opinion when you're about to blow up the whole common room."

Hermione had looked up from her book by this point. She untucked her feet from beneath her and shifted on the couch to look over at Seamus, the open book still balanced on her knees. An infinitesimal widening of her eyes was the only sign that she had realized the same thing that Draco had.

"Seamus, I think he's-"

But whether she was going to say he was right or something else entirely, Draco never found out, because at that moment, Seamus's hand slipped and the powder fell into the cauldron below and the resulting boom knocked Draco off his feet.

Cursing, he dropped his bag of books to the floor and sprang to his feet, wand out to clear the smoke.

To his right, he heard running footsteps as Neville came rushing out of his room to investigate.

"Drop your wand, Malfoy," Longbottom said upon seeing Draco standing with his wand drawn.

Draco snarled. "Oh, because naturally it's my fault something happened. Salazar forbid you look around and realize your idiot friend made something else explode. It's not like it's the first time he's done it!" He gestured angrily with one hand toward the room's other occupants.

At the center of the chaos, Seamus coughed and sputtered, using his wand to siphon the remnants of the potion away, but the damage had already been done. There were scorch marks on the sofas where the liquid had spattered, a hole burned into the cauldron and through the table beneath it. No matter how many times Finnegan cast Reparo, nothing seemed to change.

"Oh, McGonagall's gonna kill me…." he muttered, sinking back down onto one of the sofas and inspecting the damage done to his robes. The dragon-hide gloves he wore were the only thing that seemed to have repelled the potion and remained intact.

Across from him, Hermione still sat, staring numbly at the ruined book in her lap after she had tried to repair it as unsuccessfully as Seamus's attempts to repair the furniture had been. There were angry red welts forming on her hands where the potion had splashed and scalded her, but she didn't seem to notice.

Neville took all of this in and slowly lowered his wand, mumbling, "My apologies, then, Malfoy."

But Draco wasn't listening. He stuffed his own wand back into his robe pocket and purposefully strode toward the bushy haired witch. "Granger, you alright?"

She didn't seem to hear him, her focus entirely on the remnants of her destroyed book. Perhaps she was in shock, Draco thought, though it seemed unlikely a potions accident would be responsible after everything else she'd witnessed before.

"Oi! Granger!" he tried again, snapping his fingers in her line of sight.

She jolted backward, only then seeming to realize he was right in front of her. When she looked up, there were unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

Draco frowned. "Granger….You need to go to the hospital wing." He gestured toward her hands.

Only then did Seamus seem to notice her injuries as well. "Oh, Merlin, Hermione...I'm so sorry…"

Hermione still made no move to get up, looking down at the book again instead as if she couldn't believe that it was really beyond repair.

Draco was losing patience. "Listen, Granger, you have two options. You going to the hospital wing is non-negotiable, but you can either walk there on your own or I'm going to carry you there."

"Malfoy, that's really not-" Neville began, but he stopped when Hermione stood.

"I'll go to the hospital wing myself, thanks, but just…" she looked over at Neville. "Don't let anything else happen to it while I'm gone, please." she nodded toward the book which she had set aside when she stood.

"Of course," he promised, looking a bit confused over her concern for the book over her own health.

"Right, then. So Longbottom will babysit the book, Finnegan will go tell the Headmistress what he's done this time, and I'll make sure Granger doesn't get lost on her way to the hospital wing."

Hermione scoffed. "I am perfectly capable of getting there myself."

"Under normal circumstances, I'd agree with you, but as we don't know what side effects that concoction of Finnegan's might have-"

"Oi! I'm still right here!"

"-it so happens that I was on my way to turn in my Transfiguration essay and the hospital wing is on the way, so…." he walked past her, retrieved his bag from where it lay discarded on the floor, then strode toward the door and pulled it open. "After you, Granger."

Hermione huffed, but walked through the door he held open anyway and out into the 7th floor corridor. Now that the initial adrenaline rush from the exploding cauldron had subsided, there was a dull ache in her hands that she hadn't noticed before and she looked down at the welts as she walked, thinking that she could have probably healed them on her own with dittany had the option occurred to her sooner. There was still a bottle of it in her trunk. Though she wouldn't admit it to him, it probably was best to have them looked at by someone more experienced in healing.

Draco had fallen into step silently beside her while she inspected her injuries and she sped up her pace slightly. He raised a brow and just increased the length of his strides to match her new pace.

"I really am capable of seeing myself there, Malfoy."

"Didn't seem like it the way you were staring at that book like it was that ginger beast you call a cat that had died instead of your book. I mean, I know your love of books is on par with Madam Pince, but it's just a book-"

"It's not just a book," Hermione snapped, hair flying behind her as she made to storm off.

He caught up to her a short distance down the corridor and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Sorry, Granger, didn't mean to-"

"Don't touch me," she cut him off, shrugging off his hand and whirling around to face him.

Draco held both hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Sorry, Granger," he repeated. "I didn't mean to offend you."

Hermione was surprised to find that the apology seemed sincere even if the words were foreign on his tongue.

"I didn't know the book meant so much to you," he said.

She took a deep breath, counted to five, and then exhaled slowly. "It's fine," she said after a moment. "You wouldn't have known." And she turned to continue on her way toward the hospital wing.

He stood a moment longer, allowing her to get a few feet ahead before he continued on as well. There was a long silence as they reached the stairs and went down to the next floor.

They were halfway along the next corridor before she spoke again.

"It belonged to my mother," she said suddenly. When he remained silent, she continued, "She'd read it to me when I was a little girl...It's one of the only things I have left of hers…"

He couldn't see her face from where he still walked a few feet behind her, but the emotion in her voice was unmistakable. He'd noted her use of past tense, but he didn't want to push her and ask what had happened when she'd already surprised him by opening up about as much as she had. "I'm sorry," he said again, at a loss for anything else to say.

They continued the rest of the way to the hospital wing in silence and he held the door for her when they got there before he continued alone to turn in his essay.

When he returned to the 8th year common area, he found it unoccupied save for Theo Nott who lounged on one of the (surprisingly now undamaged) couches.

Theo looked over when Draco entered. "McGonagall came by and fixed everything," he offered by way of explanation when he saw his confusion. "Gave Finnegan one hell of a tongue lashing first, though. He and Longbottom went to check on Granger."

"Did she fix the book, too?" Draco couldn't help but ask.

Theo's brows knit together in confusion. "The book? Oh, you mean Granger's book? No, it's a muggle book, there wasn't anything even McGonagall could do for it." He jerked his head toward a table that sat just outside of Granger's bedroom where Draco could see the remains.

He crossed over to it and looked down at it. It didn't seem like much. The cover was worn and the pages were yellowed even without the damage done by the potion which had left a large hole straight through the last half of the book and through the back cover. Blue stains were spattered across the remains not melted away. He was able to barely make out the title on the cover. _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ , he read. Strange, he thought, a book she had been read as a child was about a wizard….he wondered if her parents had suspected she'd had magic early.

When he turned around again, he found Theo watching him with a knowing smirk plastered across his face.

"What?"

"Nothing," Theo said, shrugging. "Just that I heard someone was playing the hero earlier...Insisting on doing the gentlemanly thing and escorting Granger to the hospital wing…"

"I only did what anyone else would have."

"Mm-hm, and yet there were two other men from her own house here at the time who could have done it…"

"Sod off, Theo." Draco grumbled, heading across the common area toward his own room.

What he wouldn't admit to Theo, or anyone else for that matter, was that he'd stood by and done nothing while Hermione Granger had been hurt before, and it was something he'd sworn he'd never do again.

* * *

**Friday, December 25th, 1998**

The 8th year dorms were quiet when Hermione woke Christmas morning.

Four days had passed since the Seamus's exploding cauldron incident and the rest of the 8th years has all departed one after the other. Well, all except for one, anyway.

Dean Thomas had been the last to leave. He'd been the only 8th year to decide he'd wait to take the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the students and when he'd left bright and early Wednesday morning, he'd wished Hermione a Happy Christmas and encouraged her 'not to let Scrooge get her down.'

She hadn't had to ask who he'd meant. Draco Malfoy hadn't allowed himself to become involved in any of the holiday shenanigans the rest of the 8th years had participated in. When they'd decorated the tree, he'd stayed in his room. When they snuck in cookies from the kitchens and a few bottles of firewhiskey from a recent Hogsmeade trip, he'd disappeared to some other part of the castle.

Hermione hadn't seen him at all since she'd arrived at the hospital wing on Monday. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal the welts with no signs they'd ever been there easily enough, but she'd kept Hermione for a few hours regardless to monitor for any other effects the potion may have had.

She wished repairing her mother's book had been so easy. What remained of it lay on her nightstand. Despite its ruined state, she couldn't bear to get rid of it. Most of her parents' belongings had been packed up and taken with them to Australia or else sold when they sold the house after she had modified their memories. The book had been the one personal item she'd kept with her. She'd carried it with her in the beaded bag through the war and when she had a particularly rough day, she'd found comfort by pulling it out.

After the war, she had set out to find them again….only to be devastated to learn that all of her precautions had been for naught. The Death Eaters had found them anyway and they'd died not even knowing they had a daughter.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes but she wiped them away and sat up. She'd known today would be hard. It's why she'd decided to stay behind at Hogwarts instead of going to the Burrow. The Weasleys had enough loss to mourn without her adding her own grief to the mix.

It wasn't until she pulled the covers back and started to get out of bed that she noticed the pile of gifts at the foot of her bed.

There were presents from Harry and Ron, of course. Ginny and the other Weasleys, too, as well as gifts from Order members, even gifts from people she'd never met before who simply knew her to be one of the so-called war heroes.

It was nearly an hour later when she had finished unwrapping them all.

She decided, then, that she should head down for breakfast with the few students and teachers still at Hogwarts. It wasn't likely to be a joyous occasion. Most of those who stayed did so because they didn't have anyone to go home to after the war.

Hermione was dressed and out of her room in ten minutes. The common area was as empty as it had been for the last several days and she'd made it halfway to the door when she noticed it: a small package wrapped in silver paper at the base of the Christmas tree. Certain that it had not been there when she'd gone to bed the night before, she moved to get a closer look and could see 'H.G.' scrawled in neat letters on the outside of the package.

No other 8th year had those initials, so she knew it had to be for her, but why hadn't it been with her other gifts? Curiosity won out and she gently lifted the package and pulled back the paper to reveal a book...but not just any book. It was an old copy of _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ , the same edition and cover design as the one that had been destroyed. She nearly dropped it in shock. This particular edition had been out of print since 1961 when her mother had received it as a child.

When the rest of the wrapping had been pulled away, a note fluttered to the floor at her feet and she crouched to pick it up.

_I know this can't replace what you lost, but I thought you'd like to have it._

_Happy Christmas._

There was no signature.

There didn't need to be a signature. There was only one person Hermione could think of who would be responsible and she marched toward his bedroom door, holding the book tightly to her chest with on hand and the note in her other.

She knocked without a second thought and there was a brief pause before the door swung inward and Draco stood, looking at her with an eyebrow raised and an open book held in one hand. "Can I help you, Granger?"

"I just...I wanted to say thank you...for the book."

"What book?"

Hermione looked at him, momentarily perplexed. "This book," she held it up. "The one you gave me for Christmas…."

"I hate to break it to you, Granger, but I didn't get you anything for Christmas."

"You...what?"

"Do keep up, Granger, you're supposed to be the brightest in our year. I said I didn't get you anything for Christmas."

"Then where did this come from?" she asked, waving it in front of him as if it were the only proof she needed.

"How should I know?" he shrugged.

"You were the only person I told about what it meant to me," she reasoned, though she was beginning to sound less sure.

"So? Maybe Finnegan felt bad when he saw how upset you were and got you a new one. Or maybe Longbottom did. He was here, too."

"But neither of them are here now and this most certainly wasn't under the tree until this morning."

"Granger, this is the Room of Requirement….perhaps they _required_ that it stay invisible until Christmas morning."

She frowned, but his suggestion did certainly make a lot more sense than the idea that Draco Malfoy may have walked into a muggle bookstore of all places to get this for her. She was being ridiculous, and he was right. There was no reason he'd get her anything for Christmas and, besides, when would he have had the time? Of course, she hadn't actually seen him the last four days, but she'd assumed he'd been holed up in his room the whole time.

"Right...Well...I'm sorry I disturbed your reading….or whatever it is you were doing," she said, peering past him into the room behind him. She wasn't sure why she was surprised, but she didn't see evidence of a single Christmas gift in his room. _Of course he wouldn't have gotten any presents_ , she scolded herself. _His parents are both in Azkaban and he doesn't really have friends..._

He shrugged. "Don't mention it."

If he noticed her staring into his room, he didn't mention it, either, but she stood there awkwardly shuffling her feet after her realization. "I was about to go down for breakfast," she said after a moment's hesitation. "Would you like to join me?"

Draco stared at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"It's just...No one should be alone on Christmas, Malfoy."

He stood there still just looking at her for so long that she had been ready to just tell him to forget about it and retreat, but then he shrugged and said. "Yeah, sure."

* * *

They made an odd pair at breakfast, catching the attention (and gossip) of everyone who saw them together.

Hermione was surprised to find that he could actually be decent company. Their conversation at breakfast spilled over into a walk in the snow around the grounds.

They talked about their holiday traditions growing up, which had been wildly different.

Her family had always been close and they'd loved to drive around and see the lights on Christmas Eve or to go caroling. There had been family dinners filled with love and laughter.

His had been the opposite. Christmas Eve had meant stuffy formal dinners with the other pureblood families where even the children were expected to act like miniature adults. Christmas Day had meant just the three Malfoys and hadn't been particularly joy filled occasions. Naturally, he'd always received any gift he could have possibly wanted, but there had never really been anyone to share Christmas with and he'd spend most of the day alone on the Manor grounds or in the library until dinner with his parents.

"I think I may have preferred your family's way of doing things...even if it was just once," he admitted as they made their way back to the common room with hot cocoa and cookies from the kitchens in tow later that evening.

"Excuse me, but did Draco Malfoy just say that muggles actually did something better than purebloods?"

And there it was, the reminder of who he was and everything he had done ruining what little enjoyment he'd gotten out of the day. He frowned and fell silent and she regretted saying it almost immediately.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't apologize," he said with a shake of his head. "I had that coming…..the way I treated you and everyone else all those years, it's a wonder you're even speaking to me at all…." They'd reached the common room and he turned to retreat back to his room, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

His eyes dropped down to the hand on his arm and then up to meet hers. She dropped her hand and took a step back, but didn't look away.

"I'm not going to say that what you did was ok. We both know it wasn't. But I also know that you didn't really have a choice. None of us did. And you came around when it mattered. You didn't tell Bellatrix it was us when you knew it was. You gave us the time we needed to get out. Not to mention your mother is the only reason Harry is still alive."

He still didn't look convinced, so she added, "Besides, Christmas is a time for second chances, right?"

"I think you've got that mixed up with New Year's, Granger."

"Well, lucky for you, that's next week."

The corners of his mouth twitched upward, he couldn't help it and she answered it with her own smile.

"I was going to read out here for a bit before bed," she said. "You can join me if you want."

"I'd like that."

So they spent the rest of the evening with Hermione curled up on one couch reading her new copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz while Draco made himself comfortable on the couch opposite her with the book he'd been reading that morning.

It was past midnight when they each retired to bed with a "Happy Christmas."

The rest of the holiday break passed in much the same way and by the time the other students had begun to return, they'd fallen into a comfortable routine.

Hermione asked both Neville and Seamus about her mysterious Christmas gift after their return, but neither seemed to have any idea what she was talking about.

She never asked Draco Malfoy about it again, though she was certain he knew more than he had been willing to admit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Friday December 24, 1999**

The crackling logs in the fireplace weren't enough to fight off the chill Draco Malfoy felt as he sat alone in the library of Malfoy Manor on Christmas Eve.

After completing his 8th year, he'd returned to find the manor showed signs of having been searched by the Ministry. He wasn't surprised. Nor was he surprised to find quite a few items had been seized. His father would have been outraged to find some of the Malfoy family heirlooms missing, but Draco couldn't find it in himself to care.

He'd had a month until his mother's one year Azkaban sentence would come to an end, so he'd set about readying the manor for her return to keep himself busy.

When Narcissa Malfoy had come home, she hadn't been the same. Draco imagined a year in Azkaban would do that to anyone and he was once again grateful to McGonagall for the chance she had provided him to return to Hogwarts instead of living alone on house arrest in the Manor. The last six months had felt enough like house arrest as it was. Sure, he had the freedom to go wherever he liked, but no matter where he went, he still felt as if he was being judged for his part in the war.

His mother hadn't been much company, either. After the death of her sister, the life sentence given to her husband, and her own year in Azkaban, she seemed a shell of her former self and Draco found himself feeling alone even with someone else in the house.

He hadn't even bothered to decorate for Christmas. He wasn't sure why he should bother when there wasn't really anyone to share it with.

The thought brought back memories of Christmas the year prior, spent in the company of Hermione Granger of all people. She'd been one of the few who could be counted on to still treat him like a person after everything he'd done. He hadn't seen her since their graduation, but he'd read in the Daily Prophet that she'd been hired by the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It seemed she and Weasley were also an item now if Witch Weekly's gossip were to be believed. He was happy for her, really he was.

He'd thought about writing to her, but he wasn't sure what he'd say.

_Dear Granger,_

_Remember how you said no one should be alone on Christmas? Well, here I am, alone on Christmas…._

No. That would never do. He wasn't some charity case for her to champion like she had done with the house elves. Yes, he knew about S.P.E.W….he'd overheard her telling Potter and Weasley all about it in the library one day in third year.

He frowned and stood, stretching to relieve the ache in his muscles caused by sitting in the same chair for so long and crossed over to a nearby bookcase. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for, the only muggle book in the entire library: L. Frank Baum's _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_.

It was a newer copy than what Granger had received for Christmas the year prior, though he'd bought them both at the same time. It had taken him three different days of venturing out into muggle London to find one that looked like the one she had lost, with McGonagall's permission to leave the castle for 'holiday shopping' as he had told her when he asked.

The idea had come to him the same night the cauldron explosion had occurred. He'd gone to McGonagall for permission to leave the Hogwarts grounds first thing the next morning. A visit to Gringotts to convert galleons to muggle currency had been easy enough. Finding the book had been another story, entirely. Tuesday had passed with no luck. He'd found books with the same title, but never the same cover before it was time to return to the castle for the evening. Wednesday had been the same. Thursday, which had been Christmas Eve, had been his last chance. He was ready to abandon the idea entirely when he'd finally found it in a used bookstore. He'd bought the other copy for himself on a whim, curious to know what a muggle author's take on a wizard would be.

He'd returned to Hogwarts that night, both copies safely shrunk down and stowed away in a pocket. It wasn't until later that he realized something rather peculiar: he'd felt free moving about muggle London, more so than he did Diagon Alley these days, because in the muggle world, he'd been anonymous. No one there knew his sins. There were no whispers to follow him, no looks of disdain…

The owner of the bookstore had wrapped her copy for him so all he'd had to do was slip it under the tree that night after she'd gone to bed.

He wasn't sure why he'd decided to do it….Perhaps after years of being the reason for her tears, he'd wanted to give her a reason to smile even if she didn't know it was from him. He'd been sure she wouldn't have accepted it if she'd known who it was from, so he denied it when she asked. Her invitation to go down to breakfast with her after had been quite unexpected, but still, he'd never told her and he doubted he ever would. Let her think whatever she wanted.

As he settled into the chair once more and opened the book to the first page, he decided something had to change. He couldn't fathom spending the rest of his life living in this solitude, not when it was in his power to go out and do something about it.

* * *

**Monday, December 18, 2000**

With one week remaining until Christmas, Hermione Granger found herself running late to work. The holidays were always a busy time for the Improper Use of Magic Office where she worked and she'd been up quite late the night before after being called in for a family dispute that involved some rather... _creative_ spellwork….on the part of a woman who had found her husband cheating with her sister at a family Christmas party.

It probably wouldn't be the last such incident she got called to this week. Between family feuds, accidental magic wrought by large groups of magical children all in the same house, and the general stress of the holidays, it had been the busiest week the previous year and after a full year and a half working for the Ministry, she could say with certainty that there was nothing quite like the holidays to bring out the best, and worst, in people.

Running a few minutes behind schedule wouldn't be the end of the world on most days, but on this particular Monday morning, Minister Shacklebolt had scheduled a press conference directly related to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement beginning promptly at 8am. It was 7:50 when Hermione stepped out of the floo and into the atrium. Ten minutes early would not be considered late to most people, but to her, if she wasn't in her seat fifteen minutes prior to start time, she was late.

The doors of the lift nearest to her were beginning to slide shut as she hurried forward, calling out "Hold the lift, please!"

To her great relief, she saw the flick of a wand from within and the doors sprang apart just as she reached them.

"Thank you!" she said to the other occupant as she entered the lift and looked down at her hands to make sure she hadn't dropped any of the rolls of parchment she'd been carrying with her.

"Morning, Granger," came the reply and her eyes snapped up to meet the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy who stood with his back against one wall of the lift looking mildly amused by her entrance. "Running late?"

"Malfoy!" she said in a surprised squeak. "Goodness, I haven't seen you in…" she paused, trying to think when the last time she had seen him was.

"A year and a half, give or take," he supplied.

Had it really been that long? Yes, Hermione supposed it had been now that she thought back on it.

"I don't go out much," he offered by way of explanation, pausing when the lift doors opened to allow entrance to two more ministry employees on another level. "...for obvious reasons," Draco added when the two both gave him looks of disdain upon realizing who they were sharing a lift with.

Hermione frowned. She suddenly felt very guilty that she hadn't bothered to keep in touch after graduation. There had always been something going on in her life to keep her busy, but surely she could have made the time to write or maybe to meet for coffee and catch up. He'd always been perfectly decent to her the second half of their 8th year and she'd even considered him to be a friend by the end of it.

"Well, it's good to see you," she said sincerely. "How have you been? And what are you doing here?"

The lift reached the floor that housed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the doors slid open. The other two occupants quickly made their exit and Draco paused to allow her out ahead of him. "Potter didn't tell you?" he questioned as he followed her out.

"Tell me what?"

"You'll see. See you around, Granger."

He stepped away from her and was quickly swallowed by the crowd that had gathered for the press conference before she could ask anything else.

She shook her head and glanced at a clock. 7:55. She'd better find a seat.

Hermione managed to locate Harry sitting with a group of other Aurors within a few moments. Ron wasn't among them. Though he had entered into the Auror's training program at the same time as Harry, Ron had decided that perhaps he wasn't quite cut out for that line of work after all and gone to help George run Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He'd needed all the help he could get after they'd opened a second location in Hogsmeade and both shops were quite successful.

There was an empty seat beside Harry which Hermione dropped into rather unceremoniously.

"Running late?" Harry asked, looking amused by her obviously slightly frazzled state.

"Late night," she replied. "Harry, you'll never guess who I-"

But at that moment, the crowd gathered fell silent as Kingsley entered and approached the podium set on a raised dais at the front.

Hermione knew from the prior year that this end of year press conference would be an introduction of the new Aurors who had passed that year's training program and then any announcements related to policy changes taking effect in the new year. The identities of the auror candidates were kept quiet while they were in the training academy as many didn't pass and only the top few of each year's class were selected. The rest typically went on to work other jobs at the ministry more suited to their skills.

While she hadn't heard how many had managed to pass this year, she knew that her friend Neville Longbottom would be among them thanks to a slip of the tongue on Hannah Abbott's part when she'd seen the other girl in Diagon Alley at the end of the prior week.

At the front, Minister Shacklebolt had finished is opening remarks and stepped out from behind the podium. "So without further adieu, I'd like to present our newest Aurors: Catriona Faust..."

A petite brunette witch joined him at the front.

"Jimmy Keddle…."

A tall and lanky young wizard joined Catriona.

"Neville Longbottom…."

Harry and Hermione clapped with everyone else.

"Draco Malfoy…"

There was collective intake of breath, but if Minister Shacklebolt noticed, he didn't let on that he did. A few people clapped politely as Draco joined the first three, face as impassive as ever.

Nearby, there was a flash of a camera and Hermione looked to see Rita Skeeter, that horrid woman, was whispering rapidly while her signature acid green quill darted across the parchment. She made a mental note to pay a visit to her later.

By the time Hermione looked back to the front, the final Auror, Andrew Warrington, was also at the front.

There was polite applause as reporters from the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and even the Quibbler, took photos of the group before they exited and Minister Shacklebolt began announcing the changes being instituted beginning with the New Year. It was all fairly standard stuff, new regulations for potions that had been invented and approved over the course of the last year, that kind of thing. Hermione was paying less attention than she normally would have, mind wandering to the other recent developments, until Harry nudged her rather hard in the side and she suddenly realized half the audience were craning their necks to look at her expectantly. Her eyes flew to Minister Shacklebolt who was motioning for her to join him at the front and she mentally cursed herself for not paying better attention. It wasn't like her.

"As I was saying," Kingsley continued in his deep reassuring voice after she had taken her place at his side, eyes wide in bewilderment as she looked out at the crowd. "The new sub-division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be working closely with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, however, their primary purpose will be advocating for the rights of all magical creatures. They will be reviewing antiquated laws and developing new ones to ensure fair treatment for all. After much careful consideration, we have decided that DMLE employee Hermione Granger is best suited to head this project and she will begin her new position immediately. That is, if she's willing to accept the position."

"Of course," was all Hermione managed to get out in a surprised squeak before anything further was drowned out by applause from the audience and the flashes of the cameras.

Behind all of them, propped against the back wall, she could make out a familiar blond wizard smirking at her obvious discomfort of being put in the spotlight.

After it was all over, Hermione looked at Harry accusingly as the room emptied out. "You knew," she said.

"I swear I didn't," he said. "I knew they were talking about the new subdivision but I had no idea it had officially been established-"

"Not that," Hermione said, waving her hand dismissively. "Malfoy." And before he could play dumb or ask what she was talking about, she went on, "I saw him in the lift this morning and he said he was surprised you hadn't told me something. You knew," she repeated. "And you didn't tell me."

"I know, Hermione, and I'm sorry, I should have told you, but I promise he's different now. I've talked to him," Harry said, misreading the reason Hermione had reacted the way she had. "He's changed a lot since then or I wouldn't have agreed to be his partner."

"His partner?" Hermione repeated, more confused now than before. "I thought Corbyn was your partner."

Harry glanced around, then jerked his head as a signal for Hermione to follow him, which she did, looking bemused. Only when they were in Harry's office with the door closed and Muffliato cast did he speak again.

"Corbyn is partnered with Wilkins now," Harry explained, nodding toward the desk that had been Corbyn's but now sat empty, all of his clutter cleared away. "Shacklebolt had to do a bit of...rearranging…" he grimaced, "to accommodate the new recruits this time around. You see, none of the Aurors who could have taken on a partner wanted anything to do with Malfoy. He was the top of the class this year, Hermione, but the rest of them refused to partner with him. Said the only reason he'd done so well was because he knew all about the Dark Arts first hand," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "So it was either I take him on as partner or he'd have been passed over completely even though he worked hard to earn his place here. I told Kingsley what I wanted to do and he made it happen."

"But that's just….that's just prejudice, that's what it is," Hermione said, quietly fuming. "And they should all be ashamed of themselves."

Harry nodded slightly and perched himself on the edge of his desk. "I know, but I wasn't going to let it happen if I could do something about it. Maybe once he's proven himself to be a capable Auror, they'll start to come around."

Hermione smiled slightly. "You're a good man, Harry Potter."

"So Ginny tells me."

* * *

**Friday, December 22**

When Hermione entered her new office on the last work day before Christmas, she found something unexpected on her desk: a planner with a dragon-hide cover and a new set of quills.

The note she found beside them read:

_For writing down all of your important meetings. Congratulations on the promotion._

_Happy Christmas._

There was no signature.

When Hermione saw Harry at lunch later that day, she asked him about it. He was one of the few who knew she was moving into her new office that day.

"Not me," he said, after swallowing a bite of the sandwich he'd ordered at their favorite lunch break cafe. "You won't get your Christmas present from me until Christmas Day. You are still coming to the Burrow with Ron, right?"

She assured him she was.

That night when Ron took her to dinner to celebrate her promotion, she asked him about it as well.

"Sorry, 'Mione," he said around a bite of pasta. "Not me. Maybe Kingsley left it for you?"

Yes, that would make sense, Hermione thought, but there was something about the writing that had seemed familiar.

When they returned home to the flat they shared that night, Hermione went to her bookcase and pulled out the copy of _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ she'd received two years before, opened the cover and retrieved the note she had found with it to compare to the one found on her desk that morning.

A perfect match.

"Hey, Ron," she called to him where he sat in the next room tinkering with a new Weasley Wizard's Wheezes product, "can I borrow Pig?"

"Yeah, sure, you know you can use him whenever you need to."

"Thanks!"

She fetched parchment and a quill and penned a short note addressed to one Draco Malfoy thanking him for the gift she'd received that morning and let Pig out through the kitchen window before she settled in to a chair with a new book she'd been meaning to read for ages.

An hour later, there was a tap at the window and she stood to let the tiny owl flutter back inside. He held his leg out, looking proud to have completed his task and returned with a reply. After removing the note from his leg and giving him a treat, she unrolled the piece of parchment to see a short two sentence reply:

_I have no idea what you're talking about, Granger. Have a Happy Christmas._

_-D. Malfoy_

It, too, was a perfect match for the writing on the other two notes and she rolled her eyes, smiling slightly to herself as she tucked it alongside the other two inside the book as proof that somewhere deep down, Draco Malfoy did have a heart, even if he wasn't ready to admit it just yet.

Across town in the flat he'd purchased for himself after he'd made the decision to rid himself of Malfoy Manor and all of the horrid memories associated with the place, Draco Malfoy was doing much the same as Hermione, tucking the note of thanks he'd received from her inside the cover of his own copy of _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments on the first chapter! This is part 2 of 3. The 3rd and final chapter will be up either later tonight or sometime tomorrow. Happy Holidays!


	3. Chapter 3

**Monday, December 24, 2001**

"I don't know why you won't just come for dinner at least."

"I've told you, Harry. It's still too soon."

"But I thought it was a mutual decision?"

Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her hair, detangling her curls after the damage the wind had done to them that morning. She wasn't sure why she'd decided to walk to work that morning rather than apparate or use the floo, but she had. It had been nice to have the time to herself to think. She'd known Harry was going to start this again first thing this morning and she suspected his fiance probably had a hand in it as well.

The halls were mostly empty as they stepped off the lift and onto the floor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Christmas Eve wasn't a mandatory work day, but Hermione didn't have anywhere else to be and it seemed a shame to let her work get backed up.

"I just don't anyone getting the wrong idea and thinking we're going to get back together."

"I...ah…" Harry hesitated, "actually, I think Ron is already sort of seeing someone."

"And he's well within his rights to do so," Hermione said, unphased by the news that he'd moved on within a month of the decision to end their relationship after two and a half years of officially being together. They'd both known it wasn't working for the better part of the last year. "But that's all the more reason I shouldn't come to Christmas at the Burrow this year."

Harry frowned, but he knew he wasn't going to get any further with this. Hermione was stubborn and once her mind was made up, he knew that was that. "I just don't like the idea of you sitting at home alone on Christmas."

"I'll be fine, Harry. I've got plenty to keep me occupied. I'll probably bring some files home to get ahead on reading them for next week's meetings and maybe read some books of my own."

"Will you at least come over tonight for Christmas Eve dinner with Ginny and I?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course, Harry."

She bid him farewell as their paths diverged and each made their way to their own office. She'd already opened the door to her own office when she realized something wasn't right…

There were rustling sounds from within, though the lights were off. A quick nonverbal spell and the room was bathed in light. At the center, perched atop her desk and chewing on one of the quills she'd gotten the year before sat the culprit: a small kitten with fur as white as snow and a green bow around its neck.

Crinkling her brow in confusion, Hermione made her way closer as the kitten mewled and looked up at her with wide green eyes. Nearby on the desk, she spotted a piece of parchment, stained with ink from an inkpot no doubt knocked over by the kitten as its front right paw was also stained black.

"Well, you've certainly had some fun this morning, haven't you?" she said as she cast _Tergeo_ to siphon the ink away from the parchment and then from the paw of the kitten as she lifted it from her desk and cradled it in one arm to keep it from wreaking any more havoc on her office.

Now that the ink spill had been cleaned up, she could make out the words scrawled on the parchment:

_No one should be alone on Christmas. Maybe you could give her a home?_

_Happy Christmas._

That was it. No signature.

As usual, she thought.

There was no doubt in her mind where, or rather who, the kitten had come from.

After Crookshanks had passed of old age nearly a year and a half ago, she'd thought about getting another cat, but with Ron's miniature owl Pigwidgeon in the flat, she'd decided against it. They'd fought enough third year over her pet trying to kill his that it hadn't been worth it. Nevermind the fact that his rat had turned out to be a Death Eater and Crookshanks had been in the right all along…..But that was neither here nor there.

She remembered telling Harry as much a while back and it wasn't hard to imagine that his partner could have overheard…. Now that she and Ron were no longer living together, there was no reason she couldn't have a pet again and cats made excellent company. They didn't require the constant attention some pets did which was great for her busy work schedule. She just hadn't put much thought into getting one after the breakup as she'd been busy moving into her new flat.

"Well, I suppose it's just you and me now, isn't it?" she said to the kitten, who purred in response.

Hermione realized how crazy she must look, standing in the middle of her office and talking to a cat. She hadn't shut the office door when she'd come in, but no one else was around to hear, as most of the people who had offices on her hallway had taken the day off.

The kitten, who she realized she'd need to name eventually, was still curled in her right arm and she lifted the note from her desk with her left hand to read it once more. Something about the first sentence had struck her as familiar.

_No one should be alone on Christmas…_

With a jolt, she realized they were her own words, spoken three years ago when she and Draco Malfoy had been the only two 8th years left at Hogwarts for Christmas.

It was then that she realized she wasn't the only one spending Christmas alone this year. Narcissa Malfoy had passed last spring, proof that it was in fact possible to simply waste away from depression, though wizards called it something else. Hermione saw it for what it was.

She and Harry had been two of the dozen or so people who had attended the funeral. It was one of the few occasions she'd seen Draco Malfoy outside of work, the other being when he'd attended Harry's birthday party at the Leaky Cauldron, now owned by Hannah Abbott, over the summer. He'd kept mostly to himself, though they had exchanged a few pleasantries when she arrived with Ron, and Hermione had been surprised Draco had come at all.

Hermione put the note in her pocket and, keeping the kitten tucked in one arm, exited her office. It seemed she was in need of pet supplies before the shops all closed early for Christmas Eve, but first she had another stop to make.

The door to Harry and Draco's shared office stood open and she tapped softly on the doorframe, successfully garnering the attention of the room's only occupant.

Draco glanced up from the file he'd been reading and arched a brow when he saw her. "Morning, Granger. Didn't realize it was bring your pet to work day."

"Yes, well, I didn't realize I even had a pet until I walked into my office this morning. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

She could swear that she saw the corners of his mouth twitch up briefly at her question, but it was over too soon to be certain. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. "Why would I know anything about your new pet?"

The kitten, sensing the opening left by his shift in position, leapt from Hermione's arms to Draco's desk and then into his lap, where she quickly made herself comfortable while he swore under his breath.

It was Hermione's turn to smirk. "I think she likes you."

Draco lifted the kitten from his lap though it meowed in protest and held it out toward her. "Here, take your furball before she leaves hair all over my robes."

"There's a spell for that, you know," Hermione remarked, though she took the kitten back from him. "Where's Harry?"

"No idea. Came through maybe five minutes ago, said something about you being too stubborn for your own good, got the files he needed and left."

She rolled her eyes at that. Go figure that Harry's only reason for coming in that day had been to 'coincidentally' meet her in the lift and try to talk her into coming to Christmas at the Burrow one more time. She appreciated that he didn't want her to be alone on Christmas, but she had another solution that didn't involve attending Christmas dinner with her ex and his family three weeks after their breakup.

"What are you doing for Christmas this year, Malfoy?"

He looked a bit taken aback by the question, but shrugged and replied: "Read a book. Question my life choices. The usual."

His tone was flippant and she knew he'd intended it as a joke, but something about his expression when he'd said it told Hermione he was serious.

"What a coincidence. Those sound like my plans as well," she remarked. "Since we're both going to be sitting around reading alone, maybe we could keep eachother company? I mean, no one should be alone on Christmas, right?"

Draco watched her, sensing the trap in her use of that particular phrase after what he'd written that morning, but he kept his face impassive as if he didn't recall those were the very words she'd said to him three years before, the very words that had been the start of one of his best Christmases to date.

He paused as if considering her offer, though his immediate instinct had been to accept before she changed her mind.

"Yeah, ok."

At his nod, she grinned. "Great! I'll see you tomorrow morning, then, maybe around 10am? I live in a muggle neighborhood, but my flat is connected to the floo network, so I'll open the connection for you in the morning." Still smiling, she turned and left the office with the kitten still tucked safely in her arms.

**Tuesday, December 25, 2001**

At precisely 10am Christmas morning, Hermione heard the flames roar to life in her fireplace and she smiled to herself, thinking that Draco Malfoy must have stood watching the clock to ensure he would arrive exactly on time and not a minute too early or too late. She knew because she was guilty of doing the same thing whenever she was invited somewhere.

She set two plates loaded with french toast and scrambled eggs on her small kitchen table, shot the kitten a warning look not to touch the food, and made her way into the living room just in time to see him step out of the fireplace, immaculately dressed as always.

The kitten, whom she'd named Glinda after the good witch in her favorite childhood book, leapt down from the kitchen chair she'd been occupying and followed, winding herself around Hermione's ankles before darting across the room to do the same to him.

"Morning, Granger. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," she replied with a smile. "I made breakfast. Nothing special, just eggs and french toast. It's what my parents always made on Christmas morning," she explained, "but if you don't like french toast, I can-"

"I'm sure it's perfect, Granger," he cut in. _Everything you do always is._

"Great," she smiled, and turned to head back to the kitchen. "I wasn't sure what you'd like to drink, but I have coffee, orange juice, hot cocoa, eggnog…"

Hermione wasn't sure why she was blabbering like she was nervous. There was no reason for her to be nervous. It wasn't like this was a date or anything. It was just two people who would otherwise be alone on Christmas keeping each other company and there was nothing wrong with that.

She realized after a moment that he hadn't answered her question, or if he had, she hadn't heard him over her own babbling, so she turned back and found him still standing in the living room, though he'd scooped up Glinda. There was a crease between his brows and she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but he beat her to it.

"Where's your tree, Granger?"

"My..what..? Oh! My Christmas tree? I didn't put one up this year."

"But you love Christmas." It was a statement and not a question.

"I didn't see much point in putting one up when there wasn't going to be anyone to see it, but if it means that much to you, we can put it up after breakfast. I've got it here somewhere…"

He looked mildly confused, so she explained, "Muggles have fake trees they can just store and put out each year. I mean, some get live trees every year, but it's just been more convenient for me to have a fake one. I've got it and all the decorations still boxed up in the spare bedroom. We can get them out and put them up if you want."

"I'd like that," he said, and she could tell he meant it.

"You'd think you've never decorated a Christmas tree before," she teased as they made their way into the kitchen where their breakfast waited for them.

"That's because I haven't."

"You've never decorated a Christmas tree?" Hermione repeated, looking at him in disbelief.

"Never."

Her mouth fell open slightly.

"Mother wanted the Christmas tree to look a certain way each year and she always had the house elves do it with magic," he explained, shrugging.

So after breakfast, Hermione kept her word. They retrieved the tree and all of its decorations and dragged them into the living room. She was surprised to see that he wanted to do things the long way rather than just using their wands.

Once the tree was up and in its stand, she showed him how to use the electrical outlet to test each string of lights to make sure they worked and then fell into fits of giggles while she watched him try to string the lights around the tree with the "help" of Glinda who seemed to think they were a toy for her to bat at with her paws.

"I think you're fighting a losing battle there, Malfoy," she said when he'd tugged the lights away from the kitten only to have her start trying to climb the tree instead.

He paused, looking down at the lights in his hands. "I wish you wouldn't call me that," he said so quietly that she wasn't sure she'd heard him right at first, but then he looked up at her. "It's just that whenever people say the Malfoy name now, I feel like it's this big dark cloud over my life that everyone judges me by and it's just…" He paused. "You could call me Draco….if you want."

"Alright, Draco," she said and she couldn't help but notice the smile that broke across his face when she said it. "On one condition. You have to start calling me by my first name, too."

"But Hermione is just such a mouthful compared to Granger. Doesn't have the same ring to it," he scoffed, smirking.

"Do we have a deal or don't we?" She extended a hand toward him.

Draco looked down at her hand and then up at her before he brought his own hand up to shake hers. "Deal...Hermione."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He smirked and let his hand drop back to his side. "On the contrary, that was excruciatingly difficult."

She laughed. "Fine. Call me whatever you want, but you're going to need to put this star on top of the tree for me, because I'm not tall enough to do it without magic or a chair to stand on."

* * *

December days in London were exceptionally short and darkness had already begun to fall by the time they finished decorating the tree and hanging other decorations around the flat. It certainly looked, and felt, much more like Christmas by the time they were through.

"What next?" Hermione asked, looking over at him where he sat putting shield spells on the tree to protect it from Glinda's attempts to undo their hard work.

"What else would you and your parents do?" he asked, thinking back to all the Christmases with them she had described to him in 8th year and how happy she had looked remembering them.

"Well...usually on Christmas day, we'd go to a family dinner hosted by one of my aunts or uncles, but it got a lot more difficult to do that after I started Hogwarts and had to dodge questions about my 'boarding school' without saying something I shouldn't," she said with a laugh, "But on Christmas Eve, when it was just me and my parents, we'd make hot cocoa and take it with us to go look at the lights in the neighborhood. My dad would always stop and pick up a pizza from a local place to bring home with us for dinner and we'd watch a Christmas movie. Of course, all of the pizza places will be closed since it's Christmas day, but I think I have a frozen pizza I could cook…" she trailed off, recalling exactly who it was she was talking to.

Draco Malfoy had no idea what a 'pizza' was other than it was evidently something you ate, nor did he have any idea what a 'movie' was, but if that's what she did for Christmas, that's what they would do. "Ok, let's do that, then."

Hermione stared at him. "You do realize that everything I just suggested is a muggle tradition and that going out in my neighborhood to look at the lights means walking around muggle London?"

"Yeah, I got that much," Draco said with a shrug as he stood. "It's not like it would be the first time."

She observed him silently, wondering if he was about to admit to having been the one who'd replaced her mother's book for her the last time they'd spent Christmas together, but he continued on, explaining, "Potter and I get all the cases that involve muggles. He grew up in that world, so we've got an advantage over most of the other Auror teams. It's actually a nice change going out there because none of them know who I am," he admitted. "...Or what I've done."

Hermione understood what he meant, though she experienced the stares of others in the wizarding world for a much different reason than he did. There was something freeing about losing herself amongst the crowds of muggles, just one girl of many rather than the war heroine, best friend of the Chosen One, the brightest witch of her age...The list went on.

It was the reason she'd decided to get a flat in muggle London instead, affording her some semblance of privacy after her split with Ron, amicable though it was, had been plastered all over Witch Weekly.

She didn't say all of that out loud, though, opting instead to busy herself gathering the ingredients for hot cocoa and locating two to go cups. "Right, then, muggle traditions it is."

* * *

"Think of it sort of like watching someone's memories in a pensieve, only none of it is real, it's all fictional..." Hermione said as she attempted to explain the concept of movies and VHS to him after they'd returned from their walk around the neighborhood.

She'd put the pizza she'd had in the freezer in the oven to bake while they dug out her meager movie collection from a box she'd yet to unpack. Luckily, they had been easy to find and her television was already set up in the living room. She found the two VHS tapes she was looking for and held them up for him to see.

"These were the two we watched every year when I was a kid: A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life. Here, you can read the back to see what they're about and decide which one you want to watch since I've seen both more times than I can count," she said, handing them to him and heading to the kitchen to pull the pizza from the oven once the timer started beeping.

"These both sound really depressing," he called from the next room and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, I suppose they are a bit at first, but I promise they end well."

When she returned to the living room a few moments later with two slices of pizza for each of them on separate plates, she found him still seated on the couch where she left him, though Glinda seemed to have made herself comfortable in his lap while she was away. Smiling, she set both plates on the coffee table and cast a charm to cool them to a safe temperature to eat. "Which one did you want to watch?"

"I thought you said you and your parents watched both?"

"We did, but that would take nearly four hours."

"I've got time if you do," he said, shrugging. It wasn't as if he had anywhere else to be and he found he rather liked spending time with Hermione Granger.

"Well, seeing as they're both classics, I think everyone should see them at least once, so I suppose I can't rob you of that opportunity. We can start with A Christmas Carol and then see how you feel about watching the other one after that."

She took the VHS in question from its case and loaded it into the player, then turned off the lights, leaving a tabletop lamp beside the couch and the lights from the Christmas tree as their only sources of light, then used the remote to fast forward through all of the commercials as she joined him on the couch, if you could call it that. It was more like a loveseat, which was fine for her when she was home alone and fit better in her modest flat than a wider sofa would have.

As it was, the loveseat was just wide enough to accomodate the two of them comfortably, though her hip pressed against his when she sat. She thought about using magic to extend the seat, but ultimately decided that if he wasn't bothered by sitting this close to her, then she wasn't either. She picked up her plate from the coffee table and tucked her feet beneath her, intending to make herself comfortable only to realize he was staring at her and hadn't touched his own food.

"I promise it's not poisoned," she said nodding toward his untouched plate.

He chuckled. "Yes, well, I would certainly hope the brightest witch of her age would come up with a more creative way to get rid of me than something as obvious as poison, but don't we still need silverware?"

"No, you eat pizza with your hands."

Thinking that surely she must be joking, he raised a brow at her and she started laughing.

"No, really. I promise it's not as barbaric as it sounds. See?" She lifted a slice from her plate and took a bite before setting it back down.

He looked at her, then her plate, and then over to his own plate. Shaking his head slightly, he reached for his plate, much to the protests of Glinda who was disturbed from her perch in his lap by the motion and leapt up the back of the sofa instead.

Hermione watched him, scarcely able to hide her amusement when she heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded like 'if my parents could see me now…' before he took a bite.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

"Not so bad?" he repeated, looking at her. "Granger, this is bloody brilliant."

"Hermione," she corrected, laughing.

"Sorry. Old habits and what not, but really...this is amazing."

"Good. I'm glad you like it. Maybe Harry or I can introduce you to some other muggle foods sometime so you'll know what else you've been missing out on."

He nodded to show his agreement, but otherwise didn't answer as he was far too busy eating. And besides, the movie had started.

Three and half hours, two more slices of pizza, and almost two entire movies later, It's a Wonderful Life was nearing its conclusion and Draco watched as George Bailey got his life back after he saw what the world would be like without him.

"So do muggles really believe the whole guardian angel thing?" he asked, his eyes not straying from the screen. It was just another question in a long list of things he'd asked about muggles throughout the two movies.

Only this time, she didn't respond. He glanced to the side and saw that she'd fallen asleep curled up in her seat with her back against the armrest and her cheek cushioned by the back of the seat.

The light from the television combined with the glow from the Christmas tree cast a faint light, illuminating her features. Draco's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed how beautiful she'd become, but it was the first time he was able to truly look at her for longer than a few moments without fear of someone noticing. She looked peaceful in sleep, the usual crease between her brows that formed when she was thinking too much smoothed away. He marveled at the fact that she'd felt safe and comfortable enough in his presence to drift off during the movie.

Draco Malfoy had known for some time now that he was in love with Hermione Granger. He'd suspected it in their 8th year when he'd realized how happy it made him to be the reason she smiled, whether it was from the book he denied giving her or from a sarcastic remark he'd made. The past year of working alongside her in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had only solidified that.

He would never tell her that, though, because he knew that she deserved someone far better than him. Someone who had been on the right side of the war. Someone who could go out in public with her without causing a scandal. Someone who had never insulted her, never called her that horrible name his aunt had later engraved into her arm….He could see it now peaking out from the sleeve of her jumper which was pushed up from the position she was curled into.

Draco Malfoy knew that Hermione Granger was never meant for him. It had been easier to remind himself of that when she'd been in a relationship with Weasley. It was harder now that she was single, but he had no doubt she'd find someone worthy of her one day.

If only things had been different...if he'd been born to a different family...if he'd had the guts to stand up to his father…..if only…

He realized the irony, then, as the credits rolled. If Hermione had been a Slytherin, he'd have thought her choice of movie had been deliberate. George Bailey had thought everyone else would be better without him, too, but that hadn't been the case.

Wasn't that what Potter was always trying to remind him?

If Draco had never been born, Potter may not even be here. It was Narcissa Malfoy's love for her son that prompted her lie….And if Draco hadn't been forced to plan Dumbledore's murder, who would have been master of the Elder wand? Would Potter still have become its master somehow?

He supposed it didn't matter now that it was all over. Everything happened the way it did and it had been recorded in the history books, the ink long since dry. Draco Malfoy was a villain. Potter and his friends, the heroes.

It didn't do to dwell on it now.

Draco stood and stretched, but Hermione still didn't budge, so he grabbed the blanket she'd had laid over the back of the sofa and draped it over her. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake, so he tucked the blanket around her shoulders and stood. He found her pot of floo powder on the mantle easily enough and took a handful.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he murmured softly as he stepped into the fireplace and vanished into the emerald flames.

* * *

**Monday, December 23, 2002**

When Hermione came to their office Monday morning, it was clear she was exhausted.

"You look terrible," Draco remarked, glancing up from the parchment on his desk just long enough to take in her appearance.

Hermione snorted. "And good morning to you, too, Draco."

She saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward at that.

Harry looked up from his own desk, his concern for his best friend evident. "Merlin's beard, Hermione, you alright? You look like you've been working yourself half to death."

"Feels like it, too," she replied, dropping heavily into the seat across from Harry. "I can't stay long. I just came by to let you know that I won't be able to make it to Christmas Eve dinner with you and Ginny this year, after all."

"What? Why?"

"I've just got so much to do, Harry. Ever since Sophie went on maternity leave last month, it seems like I can never get caught up. I was here most of the weekend and I expect I'll be here Christmas Eve and Christmas as well. The new law takes effect January 1st and there's still so much to do…."

"Why don't you hire a temporary assistant until Sophie comes back?"

"I could, but even if I hired one today which is impossible, they'll never be up to her level of efficiency in time," Hermione sighed, then glanced at her watch. "I need to get back to work...I've already wasted too much time as it is…"

Harry watched her go with a frown. Across the office, Draco tapped his quill against his desk, thinking…

**Tuesday, December 24, 2002**

"You still need to eat, Hermione," Harry was saying as he trailed behind her from the elevator toward her office on the morning of Christmas Eve. "If you don't have time to come to us, Ginny says we can bring Christmas Eve dinner to you."

"That's very sweet of you, Harry, but it's your first Christmas as a married couple. I don't want you going to extra trouble on my account. I can just order takeout and have enough leftovers to get through tomorrow as well."

Hermione reached her office and threw open the door, ready to tackle the mountain of work she knew she had cut out for her only to find her entire office transformed.

She and Harry stood in the doorway, both dumbstruck by what they saw.

Small fairy lights were strung around the office, a Christmas tree stood in one corner though she'd had no time to put one up and on her desk was the mountain of work she'd expected to find….neatly organized into files and labeled for her, then stacked according to the system Sophie used to indicate priority.

She didn't bother to look for the note she knew she'd find somewhere on her desk. She knew exactly who had to be responsible for this.

"...I'll be right back," Hermione said slowly after she'd taken it all in. She turned and walked away back down the hallway and toward the Auror offices, ignoring Harry's attempts to ask what was going on.

She halted only when she reached the door to Harry's own office and turned to see him jogging to catch up. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she waited until he was beside her and cut him off before he could ask anymore questions, "I hate to ask you to wait outside your own office, Harry, but I need to have a few words with your partner. I promise I won't be long."

"I-uh, yeah, okay," Harry agreed, looking bemused by her unusual behavior.

The door swung open and closed behind her a bit harder than she'd intended, causing the room's only occupant to look up from his desk, half drunk cup of coffee in hand.

When his eyes met hers across the small office, she couldn't help but notice the dark circles beneath them, as if he'd either been up late the night before or else up very early this morning….And yet, Harry had appeared perfectly well rested. Not a mission, then. That small detail was all she needed to confirm her suspicions.

If she had learned anything from the last several years, it was that asking him about it has gotten her nowhere. So, she wouldn't ask this year. That would only give him the chance to deny it and supply some flimsy excuse. No, this year was going to be different.

Hermione started across the office at the same time that Draco started to ask, "What're you-?"

The rest of his question trailed away into nothingness when she seized the front of his robes in both of her hands and pulled him toward her, her lips meeting his.

He didn't respond to the kiss immediately, too stunned to react, and her brain kicked into overdrive. What if she had misread the situation? What if he didn't see her like that and had only been trying to do something nice as a friend? What if she'd just ruined the friendship they had with her impulsive decision to kiss him?

Feelings of shame and embarrassment flooded through her and she started to pull back, but just as suddenly as she had kissed him, his hands sprang to life. One arm hooked around her waist and the other hand held the back of her neck, fingers threading up into her curls as he eagerly responded to her kiss.

Hermione's position, already precarious as she was leaned over to kiss him where he sat in his chair, shifted in response and she fell rather ungracefully into his lap, but neither seemed to care. Her fingers slowly released the folds of his robes and moved up over his shoulder until both arms were wrapped around his neck.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, it could have been minutes or hours for all she knew, but a sudden knock at the door broke them apart.

"...that's Potter, isn't it?" Draco asked, his forehead still leaned against hers and his warm breath ghosting over her parted lips.

Unable to trust her voice, she simply nodded in response.

Draco had half a mind to cast a locking charm on the door or hex Harry for interrupting the most perfect moment of his life...or perhaps both… but he refrained, instead reluctantly releasing his hold on the brunette witch and allowing her to slip out of his lap.

Once upright, she smiled sheepishly at him while she straightened her rumpled clothing. "So...about Christmas…"

"Oi!" came a voice from the other side of the door. "Some of us still have work to do, y'know."

The color rose in her cheeks, but she continued on quickly, "It seems I might have some free time for Christmas, after all, and I'd really like it if you came over again this year."

"I'd like that, too."

"Good! I mean, that's great...I mean.." she trailed off, looking flustered as Harry knocked on the door once more.

Draco stood and took a few steps toward her, closing the gap between them. He was still having a hard time believing that the last few minutes had actually happened as he brought one hand up to hold her chin before his lips claimed hers once more. This kiss was slower than the first had been and he broke apart from her reluctantly. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Draco."

At that point, the door to the office swung open as Harry stepped inside. He glanced between the two where they stood in the middle of the room just looking at each other and rolled his eyes.

Harry Potter wasn't blind. He'd seen the way his partner looked at his best friend when he thought no one would notice and had spotted the two happily chatting away in a corner at his own wedding reception earlier that year. Unless he was mistaken in his count, he knew they'd shared at least three dances together.

He noticed, too, that Hermione's cheeks were flushed as she brushed past him and out of the office while Draco sat back down at his desk grinning like an idiot, something Harry had never seen before.

It didn't take a genius to piece together what had happened and he sighed heavily, raking a hand through his hair.

That wasn't to say that Harry wasn't happy for them. He was. It was obvious they were perfect for each other. It was the timing that was bad. His bet had been on at least another year of this back and forth nonsense while they remained in denial. It seemed Ginny had won this one and he was sure he'd never hear the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! Remember that the best Christmas gift you can give an author is to leave a comment if you enjoyed the story. I have several other Dramione fics in various stages of completion and could definitely use the motivation to complete them.


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